by Nic Roberts
“Evening, ma’am,” replied Hershel. She tucked her thumbs into her vest against the breeze.
“How has the lane been?” Olivia asked, positioning herself next to her fellow officer to gaze out across the landscape. The world was fully entrenched in dusk, changing the hues of the lush green landscape just enough to make it feel otherworldly. The two women’s breath played out visibly in front of them.
“Quiet,” Hershel remarked. Glancing over, Olivia noticed the gentle toy of an eyebrow from her, though her eyes remained focused ahead.
“How many cars have driven past?” she asked, shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her coat. Hershel didn’t seem to be one of many words. That could make this conversation incredibly quick or drawn out, like a dentist trying to pull teeth. Olivia had seen interactions with stoic officers play out both ways in the past.
“The whole day I’ve noted seven unique cars driving past. I’ve got a list of them here,” Hershel offered, pulling out a folded piece of paper and presenting it to Olivia.
“This is great,” Olivia replied, a smile warming her face despite the chill evening. “Perfect. Thank you.”
Hershel hummed her agreement again.
“Is there anything else you’ve noticed?” she asked as she peeled open the folded note. As stated, seven cars were written down with a description and at least a partial license plate number.
“It’s been quite quiet throughout the day,” the policewoman replied. “Not much that happens here. I starred one car on the list, a neighbour who struck me as being particularly nosy. He pulled off and watched me from the road for a bit. Could tell I was a cop. Didn’t approach me though. My guess is if anyone on the lane saw anything that night, he’d be it.”
Olivia eyed the note.
“That’s a reasonable thought,” she mused. “Has anyone told you you’ve got a good intuitive mind?” She asked the question, once again glancing over at her co-worker.
Hershel huffed and cleared her throat.
“Once or twice.” That reply came with the tiniest hint of a wry smile. So, she did have a sense of humour after all. It was just tucked away, alright with being unseen.
Olivia respected that.
“Well then. I’m excited to see where your career takes you, Officer Hershel,” Olivia offered, turning to start up the porch to the Hebden’s front door. “Keep a good head on you and you’ll go far. I know it.”
“That’s the goal, Detective Austin,” Officer Hershel responded. “One more thing.”
Olivia turned from the porch to look at her colleague squarely, eyebrow already quirked. The young policewoman met her gaze with a quiet confidence that Olivia rarely saw in an officer so new to the force.
“The Hebdens are good people. They seem more… ready to face whatever might come from the investigation now than this morning.” She spoke with a certainty that amazed Olivia.
“Thank you,” Olivia responded. “You’ve been a great help today. Have a good night off.”
As though on cue, another patrol car pulled up the driveway, parking next to PC Hershel’s vehicle. Her shift change had arrived.
“You as well, ma’am. I hope you get him,” Hershel replied.
“Me too,” Olivia offered back, turning to knock on the Hebden’s door. Time to get more answers.
12
Just as the sun had set, so too it seemed that the Hebdens’ energy had waned. They were both still distraught—Olivia knew that look from a mile away—but their demeanour was much more that of two adults clinging to consciousness because they could not bring themselves to sleep rather than their frenzy from that morning.
Good, Olivia thought grimly. Sleep only makes it worse. Especially in the unknown phase of a case. Dreams have a strong habit of devolving into nightmares.
They had ushered Olivia in as soon as they saw her upon opening the door. Marj offered some tea, which Olivia briefly considered before turning down. Hopefully, this would be a quick visit, and she needed the parents focused. They quickly settled back into the same seats from their first visit that morning.
“Is there really no more news, Detective?” Marj asked, eyes wide despite the exhaustion pulling at her eyelids, tempting her towards an unsettled slumber.
“I’m afraid nothing that will give us any definitive answers. I guarantee that we’re working hard on the case, though,” Olivia assured Ella’s mother. That earned her a huff from Mr Hebden.
“Your partner’s not even here, Detective. How on earth are you supposedly working hard?” he demanded. The question stung a bit, but Olivia could see the hurt behind the barbed question. She turned to Clive.
“DI Lawrence is gathering his things so that we can both be at the station for however long it takes to find Ella. I assure you, when I say we’re working hard, I mean it,” Olivia responded. She kept her tone as even as possible, worried about coming off as too unsympathetic. These people needed to trust her, not resent her.
“Apologies, Detective.” Mr Hebden practically spoke it through his teeth. He was angry.
“No need. You expect us to find Ella, and quickly. I wouldn’t want you to have any less of an expectation,” Olivia reassured him. “On that note, I’d like this visit to be quick so that I can return to the station.”
“Of course,” Marj chimed in. “Anything you need, Detective Austin.”
“Thank you,” Olivia replied with a gentle nod. It was good to know that at least Marjorie seemed eager to give more information. Olivia could work with that.
“We spoke with Kitty Allen and Samuel Mercer today. They brought up some things from Ella’s past that I’d like to go over with you two,” Olivia started, deliberately opening her notepad and preparing her pen. Notice how attentive I am, she urged. See that we’re serious. There was something thrilling about the performance of an investigation to Olivia. If she played her cards right, she was able to get far more information than she originally would seek out.
“Oh, you got in touch with Sam? He’s such a good man, isn’t he?” Marjorie responded, her face struggling to light up despite herself. Clearly both of Ella’s parents still cared about Sam, as even Mr Hebden seemed to stir at the mention of Ella’s ex. That could be hard on a daughter. Noticing parents who were still hung up on her ex could make things awkward, to say the least.
“He was definitely very helpful, yes.” Best to keep cards close with the parents. Their emotions were raw right now—tipping anything one way or the other could make them volatile, unpredictable. Especially as they headed into the first night without the knowledge of where their daughter was, it was best to keep them reigned in.
“On that note, however, I’d like to ask about Ella’s final year in college. Both Kitty and Sam mentioned that something had her on edge that year. That she seemed jumpy and quite anxious. Do either of you know what might have triggered that?”
All three adults went completely quiet. Mr Hebden glanced over to his wife, his gaze loaded with secrets Olivia could only hope to unravel. He seemed unsure of whether or not to share.
“It’s…” Marjorie started before trailing off. She glanced to her husband again. She was unsure, too. Olivia let them sit in their silence.
“That time was complicated, Detective.” Marjorie flashed a smile. She was trying to hide behind flattery. Interesting. “We knew that something was up. Ella was struggling—didn’t want to eat full meals, spent more time locked up in her room than previous years. We thought at first that maybe it was just the fact that she had a boyfriend for the first time.” Mrs Hebden was more animated as she explained Ella’s past then she had been earlier in the morning. She’d had some time to process what was going on, Olivia realised. That was certainly something.
“So, you noticed a behavioural shift,” Olivia spoke, clearly writing it all in her notebook. Let them see her record the information.
“Yeah,” Mr Hebden agreed. He rubbed his nose. “I mean, we knew there were problems. She was always evasive if we tr
ied to talk to her about it, though. Made up silly excuses. Said school was causing her all sorts of stress. And yes, that might have been part of it. But I always suspected something else was up.” He nodded slowly at his own confession. Things always did seem clearer once you went over them and said them out loud.
“Did it ever resolve?” Olivia asked, pushing gently further to the secret that Mr Hebden had held in his glance to his wife. She could tell they were working up to it.
“A little.” It was Mrs Hebden that answered. Her words carefully guarded as she spoke. “Things were escalating. She stayed home from college. Only for a few days, said she had the stomach flu, although she never had a fever. And then—” Marjorie stopped herself. She looked around the room, despite the fact that nothing had changed. When she leaned in. Olivia let herself crane forward.
“And then one day,” Mrs Hebden continued, “a letter came to the house addressed to her. She was incredibly upset after she read it. Ran off to town. She came home late that night, and there was a look in her eye, like she had finally resolved an issue. This crazy determination that Ells was so good at carrying through when she really wanted something. After that night, things seemed to calm down.”
Olivia hummed in contemplation. They’d somehow managed to tell her a lot without really saying anything. This letter raised more questions than answer the ones she’d previously had.
“And did you ever find out what the note said?” she asked, letting her head quirk slightly to the side. She held Marjorie’s gaze—Mrs Hebden certainly seemed more inclined to share. It took Olivia by surprise, then, when Mr Hebden spoke up.
“I pulled it out of the rubbish bin when she left the house. It was some sort of love letter. All cut out from magazines, like you see in them films. But it was weird, not sweet. It talked about ownership, like this boy would somehow make Ella his own. He was clearly obsessed with her. I can understand why she was upset.”
Olivia’s brow furrowed at this comment.
“You don’t know what happened when she left that day, do you?” she asked, scrambling for anything else that the Hebdens may have known about Ella’s mysterious disappearance during her final year of college.
“I wish I did,” Marjorie confessed. “I tried to get her to talk to me about it, but she insisted that it was an utterly ridiculous prank and that I shouldn’t be worrying about it.”
Olivia nodded. Shame? she jotted quietly in her notepad.
“Is there anything else you can think of from that year? Any inclination you may have as to who was sending her that letter?” She knew it was a long stretch, but at least it was something.
“If only we knew,” Mr Hebden sighed. “Were you able to get any information from Sam or Kitty about how hard she found college?”
Olivia nodded.
“I did. Neither seemed to know who was bothering Ella, or anything deeper than the unfortunate break up.” She rose to standing as she spoke. It was helpful to check in with the parents, of course, but she wasn’t sure how much more information they could really give her. “I’ll see if I can have our tech team dig a little deeper.”
“Thank you, Detective, for continuing to look for her.” Mrs Hebden frowned. Her voice held a quiet grief to it, something close to defeat—and yet somehow not close enough. She still thought her daughter might be alive; Olivia could see it in her eyes.
“And thank you both for seeing me at this hour,” she answered “You have a new officer parked outside; he should take good care of you all overnight. If you need something, ask him. I can see myself out.”
Olivia made her exit brisk and quick. The parents had her number—they could call if they thought of anything else. In the meantime, she needed to get back to the station. She whipped out her phone as she entered the car, dialling Clara’s work number before setting it to speaker.
“How’s it going, Liv?” Clara answered. Always chipper, that one. The ghost of a smile tugged at Olivia’s lips.
“It’s alright. I just spoke with the Hebdens again. I’m almost certain that Ella had a stalker during the final year of college,” Olivia explained. Might as well get right to the point. She heard a sharp inhale from the other end of the line.
“I haven’t been digging around on her social media profile that far back yet. If you want, I can see—”
“Do it,” Olivia interrupted before Clara could finish her thought. “Anything you can find from that last year she lived in Peterly could be the key to this case. I get the sense that if we find this stalker, we have a good chance of knowing who took Ella.”
“I’m on it,” Clara responded, words quick and sharp.
“One more thing,” Olivia added, knowing she was asking a lot already. “Could you look up the address and phone number of the individual linked to a car, please?”
“Was I born yesterday, Detective?” Clara sassed back. “Give me all the details you have, and I’ll get that information to you as soon as possible. That’s my jam. It’s what I do best!”
Olivia couldn’t keep the smile at bay.
“Brilliant.” She settled, opening the note that Officer Herschel had given her. She quickly read off the partial license plate to Clara, as well as the description.
“I’ll get that right after we hang up,” the young woman assured Olivia. The way she finished her sentence, Olivia could tell there was a question coming. She let the silence give way to the query that sat on Clara’s mind. “Do you think she’s… y’know…” Her voice trailed off into silence.
“This morning, I thought she was most certainly dead. People don’t usually post a finger without ransom. But after learning she may have been stalked…” Olivia pondered for a moment. “I didn’t think I would ever say it, but there’s absolutely a chance that she’s still alive.”
Her chest constricted at the thought. The last time she had let herself feel hope in a situation like this, it had turned around to destroy her heart. After the London incident, she had decided it was much better to leave any possibility of a happy ending far from her thoughts. She didn’t want to feel like she’d lost someone twice—once when they disappeared and then again when they showed up dead. She had steeled herself from this case because of that. And yet, maybe that line of thinking had closed her off from the true realities of her work.
Of course, Ella could have been murdered. Or maybe she was being held somewhere against her will. Trying to close herself off to that hope could be meddling with her ability to solve what was really happening.
“I hope she’s okay,” Clara spoke, breaking Olivia out of her spell. The headlights of her car illuminated the lane ahead of her, the fields on either side disappearing into darkness.
“Me too,” Olivia muttered, gripping the steering wheel tighter. “Thanks for the call, Clara. If anyone can find an answer to the question of this missing stalker, it’s you.”
“Thanks, Liv. I appreciate the vote of confidence,” Clara returned, the smile in her voice evident. “I’ll call if I find anything.”
“Likewise. I’d tell you to try and get some rest, but I think we both know that’s not happening,” Olivia replied grimly. They were both in for a long evening.
“You can say that again,” Clara chuckled.
“Alright, Clara. I’m sure I’ll speak with you later.” Olivia sighed. “Let’s catch this bastard.”
13
By the time Olivia returned to the station, she was more certain than before that Ella had a fighting chance. If there was a stalker involved and that person had escalated, they could have tried to kidnap Ella. Maybe he cut off her finger to show her who was boss but didn’t actually have any intention of killing her. If that was the case, Olivia hoped Ella was being smart about it. Being kidnapped by someone who had terrorised you for a year was without a doubt going to be terrifying for the young woman, but if she said and did the right things, he’d be more inclined to keep her alive.
Hang in there, Ella, Olivia willed into the cold November night.
We’re coming for you.
Upon entering the office, Olivia was greeted by a petulant Lawrence. His arms and legs were both crossed as he leaned against her desk, a singular eyebrow expressing more than a hundred words could dream of saying.
“You were still at home,” Olivia tried to justify, unceremoniously plopping her files on her desk, trying desperately not to let Lawrence’s perturbed face get to her.
“And?” he goaded, irritation coating his words.
“And it was a quick trip,” Olivia explained, turning to face her partner. “Look, I apologise. I’m sorry. They didn’t confirm much more than what we’ve already heard from Kitty and Sam, though. Ella had a stalker her final year of college. That’s it.”
Lawrence cleared his throat, eyebrows furrowed at the revelation.
“I already said I’m sorry!” Olivia sighed in exasperation. “You’re not allowed to be annoyed with me twice over.”
Her partner tried his best to stay stern, but she could see the warmth chiselling away at the ice.
“I know,” he sighed eventually. “Just.... Let’s not do that again, okay? Going forward, we should keep each other in the loop.”
“Agreed,” Olivia nodded, giving her partner a sheepish grin.
He gave her a gentle shoulder nudge in return as though to say it was okay after all.
“I probably would have done the same,” Lawrence quietly admitted after the tense air had dissipated. Olivia scoffed.
“Austin. Lawrence.” Det Supt Collins’ voice boomed from the doorway, startling them both to attention.
“Sir,” Olivia quickly responded.
“How’s the case going?” he asked, emerging into their makeshift office. While definitely not in his prime physically anymore, the Detective Superintendent’s presence still dominated any room he entered.
“We have reason to believe that Ella Hebden was stalked her final year of college,” Olivia started. “Her current boyfriend will be at the station in under two hours. I’ll be taking the lead on that interview; Lawrence will assist. Hopefully, we’ll either get him to crack or give us valuable information, depending on what role he had to play in her disappearance.”
